The no-holds-barred tale of a Chicago-based thirty-something living the so-called dream

In case you’ve been living under a rock and missed it, the ladies of Second City have released yet another “Ladies Looking” video.

Because of this event worthy of having its own government-recognized holiday (complete with mandatory bank, post office, courthouse, and school closures), I felt it was an appropriate time to release another round of the ridiculous messages I’ve received on the same ridiculous apps.

In browsing through the 931 photos saved on my iPhone today, I came across this gem from nearly a year ago. While I didn’t receive it recently, it’s simply too good to keep hidden from the light of day.

Behold. The creepiest profile photo ever.

Sure, I get it, it was around Easter judging from when it was last updated, but really? REALLY?!?! This screams psychopath/serial killer/pedophile. I was not about to stick around to get an actual photo. Who knew what would happen to me or what dumpster I might end up in. Thank you, nothing further.

Then there are always these ones. Rather than start with a simple “Hey, how’s it going?” there will always be the ones who cut right to the chase.

He clearly thought it was funny that he was “so horny” since he was laughing out loud, right? I guess I thought it was a joke. Unfortunately for him, at 3am the only place my mouth is going to be is drooling on my pillow.

Not gonna happen. Bye.

On the same note, honesty is not always the best policy. I’m not saying “Go ahead and lie about what your intentions are” but there comes a time when less is more.

Exhibit A. While “9×6.5” sounds enticing, I have absolutely zero intention of being featured on an episode of “Unsolved Mysteries” (if it’s even still a thing these days – that was sooooo 1995) or a Lifetime movie.

Need I say more?

Don’t even get me started on spelling though. There are some (okay, very few) things I have patience for. Atrocious spelling is not one of them.

Abbreviations? Fine. I can deal with them – however I’d rather not.

This, however, is a whole different level. If I need to bust out a dictionary or Google Translate to read your message, it’s just not going to happen. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Never. No ma’am.

Sometimes, I have to just laugh and say to myself “Two can play this game.”

You’re looking to play? Well you’re in luck, because so am I.

Oh wait, we’re not talking about board games like Monopoly or my current addiction of Words With Friends?

Well I can tell you right now that this just isn’t going to go anywhere.

At the end of the day when I tally up the number of messages I’ve received that are just ridiculous compared to legitimate ones from people I’d actually consider meeting up with, the results are alarming. If I were in the market (or the mindset for that matter) to PNP with some T, G, K, and other Periodic-Table-of-Elements-sounding “party favors” as they’re known, “play” things other than board games, or lend my mouth or $20 out at will, then these apps would be a great resource. I’m not in that state of mind, however.

Sure, I’ve met some legit people on these apps and ended up becoming good friends with some of them, but more often than not I find myself opening them out of boredom just for “something to do” yet with no intention of actually doing anything. Sometimes I open them without even realizing I’m doing it. Why? I have no idea. It’s like my fingers are on autopilot. Maybe it’s my brain saying “Get online! The One could be online right now!” but overall, the apps turn out to be a total time sucker. If anyone ever did a study on how many minutes/hours per day are wasted by the average gay male sitting around (or standing around at bars) on these apps when they could be doing something productive (or actually talking to the guy in person who’s across the bar instead of messaging him)….well, let’s just say it’d be a very interesting study.

So this evening, I did it. I did the unthinkable.

It’s gone. Grindr, Scruff, Tinder – all of it. I’m going back to meeting people the old-fashioned way (and no mom, not in church). Maybe I’ll meet someone at the grocery store. Maybe it’ll be at a bar. Hell, maybe I’ll meet someone at work – a client, a delivery person, maybe even a coworker from another location – we shall see. I can tell you one thing though….it won’t be through an app anytime in the foreseeable future.

The modern misadventures of a twentysomething transplant from Nebraska, trying to navigate Chicago. Many gays love meddling with my life, for better and for worse. Fortunately, I'm a less horse-faced version of Carrie Bradshaw, that, unfortunately, never gets any action.